


Lives ReWritten

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: my harry potter crackfics & unfinished tales [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Dark Harry, Drabbles, Evil Albus Dumbledore, Gen, Good Tom Riddle, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: History is written by the victors. So when Dumbledore found himself on the losing side he simply set it up so he could go back and change it. Re-writing the entire timeline in the process.(Will not finish.)





	Lives ReWritten

**Author's Note:**

> This story will never be finished, but it was a grand idea.  
> Basically this is a "this is what the world was really supposed to be like until Dumbledore went back in time and fucked it all up for everyone" type of idea. And he started fucking things up with Grindlewald because it was following him and working with him that turned so many against Dumbledore and prevented him from gaining the influence he needed to control the world.

**PROLOGUE THE FIRST**  
  
    War. A war that had savaged not just the wizarding communities of Britain, but of the entire European continent.  
    A war that had raged since before most of its soldiers were even born. Even the older, more seasoned fighters sported some gray hairs.  
    It had all started a long time ago when two very powerful wizards decided that it was for everyone's best interest to expose the wizarding world to the muggles. To subject the muggles to what was believed to be the rightful rule of the wizard kind. A revolution to free the magical peoples of their forced isolation and segregation from the greater world outside their boundaries.  
    It was said that even alone one of the wizards held power the likes of which had not been seen since the time of Merlin of the Eternal house of Emrys.  
    Over the course of the war factions sprung up. Many rallied beneath the banners of the old and ancient houses - those who were able to fight and protect their own.  
    And then there was the Half-Blood, the one who rebelled against the magical Lords of Europe and used every means at his disposal to contain the threat to the best of his ability. To keep the magical blood wars from spilling out into the rest of the world at large.  
  
    "Master Riddle, sir... The Potters... they're..." the timid and portly man said to the tired half-blood leader, unable to keep himself from fidgeting. "They're dead."  
    "What?!" the man exclaimed, tired and red-rimmed eyes narrowed as he took in the man's appearance. "Are you absolutely sure, Peter?"  
    "Yes."  
    "Were you seen?"  
    "No sir. Though it was by chance that he did not sic his dogs on me."  
    "And the child?"  
    "Taken, sir."  
    "The blood wards are still active. Weak, but active," said a dark haired woman beside him. "My sister and I... We can follow the trail before it turns cold. We can find him and bring him home."  
    He nodded. "Do it. We cannot allow them to find the secrets of his blood. They seek a power they cannot hope to control." He clenched his fist and stared at the ring of Lordship on his hand. At the strange symbol carved upon the curious stone. "They have two of the treasures and a Peverell by blood... It's only a matter of time before they come seeking to make the set complete."  
  
 **PROLOGUE THE SECOND**  
  
    It had been years since that fateful night the Potters were discovered as spies for the resistance. His aunts Narcissa and Bellatrix had found him in the Lords' fortress of Nurmengard, the first of what was intended to be many runes carved into his infant flesh.  
    Years he had trained. He had fought side by side with muggles and wizards alike to contain the combined threat of the Twilight Lords, Grindlewald and Dumbledore.  
    After the murder of his godfather Thomas Riddle, the young Lord Potter had risen from the ashes. To see his banner on the field of battle sent fear through those who opposed him, and reminded any who lived to tell the tale the story of what had been done to him. The story of his seemingly limitless reservoir of power.  
    Tales of his battles stirred something many in Europe had not known for nearly 80 years.  
    Liberation swept across the continent in Lord Potter's wake. The isolation and segregation could never be put into practice again - magic could no longer be hidden - and in those times it did not matter. For lives were shattered and neighbors who escaped alive simply sought out the peace to rebuild.  
    And now it had all come to this. A dilapidated castle in Scotland.  
    Lord Potter held his arm out when he heard the song begin. The fire bird - his beloved Phoenix Fawkes - perched upon his arm. "Oh my lovely, what have you seen of the nasty old man in the dirty old castle, eh?" he asked and the bird trilled at his words.  
    He summoned up his magic, silently commanding it to make his voice nice and clear, booming through the caverns of the structure ahead of them.  
    "We have you surrounded! There is no escape!" he paused, then added. "Give me Lord Dumbledore so that he may pay for his crimes against the muggles and magicals and we will spill no more blood!"

* * *

DRABBLE - "Lord Potter and his Death Eaters"

    "Lord Potter and his Death Eaters... it was a magnificent sight. They stormed the grounds searching for the Dark Lord Dumbldore. Freeing the muggleborn witches and wizards as they progressed through the ancient castle. They lost a lot of good men and women that night in the Battle of Hogwarts. It was Lord Potter himself that had cornered the Dark Lord. And after that...  
    "Well... the sun rose. The dead were buried. And the world went on. Lighter. More free than it had been in nearly a century under the terror of Grindlewald and Dumbledore."  
    "What happened after that?"  
    "No one knew that Lord Dumbledore had planned it all. When Lord Potter cornered him, it was in the Founders Chamber, the oldest ritual room of the castle. It had been sealed off centuries before because the ambient and wild magic of the chamber could never be fully controlled. It was a sort of nexus of energies where anything could be possible. He had spent years setting up a plan that, should he ever face a no-win situation he could change the course of his destiny."  
    "Wait. Harry Potter... the Golden Boy of the Light was leading the Death Eaters?"  
    She nodded. "Yes but... they weren't what you consider them to be. They were skilled fighters - survivors. Many of them had lost everything, even parts of themselves. Once they were patched up no one would let them fight. Except Lord Potter. His right hand, Sir Pettigrew, had lost both his legs at the hands of the Order's attack dogs. He was lucky to escape with his life. Potter took him in, and nursed him back to health himself. He didn't treat the man any different than before and expected the same from him as he had always done. Sure it took Pettigrew longer to get to meetings with false legs, but Lord Potter didn't treat him like an invalid. His mind still worked and he could still sling a wand. Everyone in the Death Eaters had suffered. Had been cast aside. Fuck, Sir Longbottom had been tortured within an inch of his life, lost one eye and the use of his right arm. You know what Lord Potter did when Longbottom came out of his coma? He told him that his commanding officer had dropped him and kicked him out of his unit. Then he asked him if he wanted to keep fighting."

 

 


End file.
